


Gerry Keay Gets Employed

by pragmaticArtificer



Series: Eye of the Beholder [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: AU Jon doesn't burn Gerry's page and Gerry is mad about it, AU where the Catalogue of the Trapped Dead is not a part of the End, Eat your heart out Jonah Magnus, M/M, Major Spoilers, Mild BDSM, Minor Mention of Mary Keay, Other CW in Notes, Piercings, Pining Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Voyeurism, We love and appreciate Gerry in this house, implied Martin Blackwood/Peter Lukas, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:33:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28012461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pragmaticArtificer/pseuds/pragmaticArtificer
Summary: After thoroughly frustrating the Archivist, Gerry is told to make himself useful by working with the Archive Assistants. Tim, the current head Archive Assistant, decides that's as much of a job offer as anyone gets around the Archives these days and that it's time to get Gerry on the books officially. This requires a trip to visit former Archive Assistant turned Executive Assistant Martin Blackwood. Gerry meets the Archivist's little crush and finds there's a lot to like.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay
Series: Eye of the Beholder [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051763
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	1. Meeting your Co-Workers

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @lyssakaz3 on twitter for being an excellent beta. And introducing me to TMA. And for encouraging all of this.
> 
> Chapter Summary
> 
> Gerry is thrown to the wolves, if wolves were three assistants minding their business with a fourth who is eager to interrogate the new hire.
> 
> Notes  
> My hand slipped.
> 
> Tim lived! And is also not pleased about it.
> 
> Please read the previous fic in the series, An Eyeful of Gerry Keay, for context.
> 
> This is all part of an AU where Jon can't bring himself to burn Gerry's page from The Catalogue of the Unquiet Dead, and prolonged exposure to the eye has the unintentional consequence of granting Gerry some level of corporality and agency. Gerry uses those consequences to rock the Archives like a hurricane.
> 
> I have been on team Gerry Keay since I listened to MAG4 and I cannot be stopped. Also I made Gerry a bit of a nerd and I do not apologize for it.
> 
> No sexy times in this chapter, though the events of the previous part are mentioned.  
> CW in End Notes

Gerard Keay stood in the shadow of the Archivist's doorway, four sets of eyes locked on him, suddenly very conscious of the wank juice coating his left hand. He had absolutely no idea who these people were.

"Uh, loo?" he asked, doing his very best to keep the squeak out of his voice. The half-asleep looking blonde with a crew cut pointed to the far wall.

"Thanks," he made a break for it, just as the one with short dark hair and pockmark scars that matched Jon's shouted, "Jared Keay?"

"It's Gerard," he shouted back, ducking behind some bookshelves and weaving between them in the direction that the blonde had pointed in.

As soon as he made it to the cramped bathroom Gerard locked the door behind him, shutting out the excited chatter that had exploded in the direction he'd come from. He sighed and stuck his page on the back of the toilet, only contemplating trying to flush the thing for a second before just letting it rest safely on the tank. It probably wouldn't destroy the damn thing and he didn't want to get sucked down into the sewers himself.

He immediately washed his hands, the past fifteen minutes or so looping on repeat in his mind. "Fucking Archivists," he swore to himself, scrubbing hard at his fingers. He had no idea what possessed him, honestly. Could ghosts get thrown into prison for sexual harassment? Or did it count as assault? "Good job fucking it up this time, Gerry."

The thing was, he didn't actually hate Sims. On the contrary, the little shit was kind of his type. Maybe that was it. He hadn't been a person for so long that chasing the feeling of anything good was, well, he couldn't help it. And he'd definitely gotten a good look at the tent Sims made while watching him, even if the rest of him had locked up in place like the world's most awkward mannequin.

He turned off the water and flicked his hands dry, taking stock of how he felt. He was definitely going to need to wash his junk, even if it was just with his wet hands. He was not going anywhere near his dick with those paper towels and there wasn't a tissue in sight. The never ending pain was still present, if faded slightly. Or was it that he was feeling other things in addition to it?

He shivered as he undid his pants and pushed them and his underwear down enough to clean up. That was a yes to temperature, then. He winced as he used gentle touches to clean what he could, his oversensitive dick begging for reprieve. He also realised he could smell how frequently this restroom was used, scrunching his nose and trying to breathe through his nose. That only helped to intensify the taste of his breath, which was rather foul at the moment. A quick look around didn't afford an easy solution either.

As he finished and tucked himself back in, Gerry let himself sigh. He was fairly solid and present for a ghost, probably thanks to Sims and the Watcher, but he really still was a ghost. One that could disappear at any time, stripped back down to the pain of existing without any of life's joys. He dried his hands and chucked his soiled paper towels in the bin. And apparently that time between then and now was supposed to be used working as an Archival Assistant. "Bullshit is what it is."

He almost didn't need to worry about it for long, as he opened the door to see the man with dark hair just waiting for him.

"Jesus, mate," Gerard stepped back, hitting the bathroom door just as it closed behind him.

"Just Tim, actually. Tim Stoker." He wasn't expecting the man to snatch his page away, but he did. Then, before he could protest, Tim was shoving the page back at him. "Nope, on second thought, I don't want to know."

Gerard stared him down. "Are all of you this rude, or is it just you," he asked, fighting the urge to hold the parchment against his chest.

Tim chuckled darkly. "Oh I think you'll find I'm the friendliest one around the archives. Was second friendliest until recently." He crossed his arms and gave Gerard a once over. "So what's your story then. Thought you were dead."

"I am dead," Gerard shrugged. When Tim only arched a brow, Gerry waved the page in his face. "This thing? My own sick little page from a Leitner book. Literally. I think Gertrude took the skin off of my stomach for it."

He smirked as Tim's face contorted into a grimace. "I thought I said I didn't want to know," he spat.

Gerry shrugged. "Then you asked what I was doing here. I can't help it if you contradict yourself."

Tim sighed and crossed his arms a bit tighter, hiding his hands. "So what then, are you going to suck my soul out because I touched your flesh page or something."

Gerry rolled his eyes. He would have pushed past Tim and ignored the interrogation, but to be honest he really didn't have anywhere to go. "No, don't be stupid. If anything, you'd have to read it, and that would only summon my cursed soul from whatever corner of hell I go to when I'm not," he searched for a word. "Present."

"Great," Tim snorted, relaxing his arms a bit. "Perfect. So what now? Are you the Archive's pet ghost now or something."

Gerry scowled. "Something like that, I suppose." He sighed and poked his own arm. "Bit fleshy now but still dead." Then his expression soured. "The Archivist was supposed to free me from my eternal torment by burning my page, but he got cold feet. He's kept my page here in the Watcher's domain long enough that I'm experiencing unforeseen side effects." He gestured to his mostly corporeal form. "Having a kind of body now helps me feel the pain from my withering soul more strongly than before. And it's clear he isn't going to free me now, not when I look so," he threw up his hands, "deceptively alive."

Tim's eyebrows had steadily risen to their highest point as Gerry spoke, and he let out a low whistle when Gerry finished. "Are you sure the power granting you eternal un-death isn't a Hot Topic or something? Because that was some edgelord bullshit."

Gerry just. Blinked. "What?"

"You sound like Jon when he's balls deep in one of his statements," Tim laughed. "Oh god, I can't believe there's two of you. Unless," he sobered suddenly. "It's not an effect of being all," he wiggled his fingers, "spooky is it?"

Gerry, who had given a quiet, but indignant sound at Tim's crude comparison, shook his head. "No. Might be in constant pain but," he gestured to himself. "Still me."

Tim snorted. "Thought as much. You definitely have the look for it." He leaned back, appraising Gerry once more, this time more interested than wary. "So what now, Mr. Ghost of Goth-Grunge past? Considering the way Jon tossed you out on your arse, I can't imagine you're headed back to his office. What did you even do to piss him off that much?"

Gerry's flush, rising with his temper as Tim continued to rapid fire questions at him without giving him the chance to answer, turned into an embarrassed blush at the other man's last comment. "Doesn't matter. It didn't really work, did it? Still here after all." He sighed and smoothed his hair back, wishing for a tie. "You wouldn't happen to have any cigarettes would you?"

Tim had been searching Gerry's face for a hint of what he wasn't saying, but snapped out of it at Gerry's question. "Nah, sorry. Besides, no smoking in the Archives. You'd have to go outside for that." Then his eyes narrowed. "Can you even?" he pantomimed bringing a cigarette to his lips. "And what about your page thing? Unless that's what you're trying-"

"Fine, fine. Whatever. And no," Gerry cut himself off again. "I don't think I can destroy it on my own." He held it up, turning the thing around so he didn't need to see Gertrude's scrawl. "Don't know how I'm even still around. Usually I've poofed back into the ether by now."

Tim raised a brow as Gerry lowered the page. He definitely noticed something that wasn't words drawn onto the thing, but honestly he still didn't want to know. "Well I'd offer to take you out for a drink, but that would probably work as well as the cigarette thing."

Gerry exhaled in a not quite snort. "I'm pretty sure I'm only free to roam the Institute, or the Archives at least. Domain thing and all that." He sighed and crossed his own arms, closing his eyes as he tilted his head towards the ceiling. "The Archivist did mention something about making myself useful, and you lot being my new co-workers."

"Wonderful," Tim exclaimed, voice sodden with sarcasm. "Another conscript, not allowed to leave or die."

Gerry gave him a look, and Tim's expression closed off. "Don't ask," he warned, to which Gerry just shrugged.

"Right, well then," Tim clapped his hands together. "Well as the most Senior Archival Assistant, I suppose it's up to me to give you the grand tour-"

"Don't need one. Been here before. A lot." At the question in Tim's raised brow, he replied, "Gertrude." He nearly choked on her name, swallowing thickly. "I helped the previous Archivist. Off the books." His mouth twisted into a rather evil grin. "Mostly burned books, to be honest."

"Right-o. Don't have the time to unpack all of that," Tim intoned, clear that it wasn't actually time that was the primary factor keeping them from discussing it. "Time to get you on the books then."

Gerry leveled a look at Tim. "I think it's a bit late for that," he replied dryly, waving his page between them. He smirked when Tim stumbled a step back, staying very clear of the human skin parchment.

"Ha, ha, a regular funny man," Tim rolled his eyes. "Seriously though. If you're going to be trapped here, you might as well make some money off it."

Gerry gave him another look. "I'm dead. What the hell am I going to do with money?"

Tim sighed. "Whatever the hell you want? Seriously, Jerad,"

"Gerard. Or Gerry, if you want."

There was another pause, and the look Tim gave him convinced Gerry that he hadn't quite kept the hope out of his voice when he offered the second option.

"Gerry." Tim said it, pausing to seemingly taste the name on his tongue. "Look. It'll get you out of Jon's hair for the moment and give me a reason to stretch my legs. It's not like Elias is here anymore, and I definitely wouldn't be marching you to him if he was."

"He's not?" Gerard asked, brows knitted.

Tim sighed. "Long story, I'll tell you on the way up?" He reached out and touched Gerard's arm, meaning to guide him friendly like to the elevator. He pulled back immediately when Gerard jumped. "Shit, sorry, was that-?"

"Its fine," Gerry quickly huffed, crossing his arms and trying to ignore the warmth that blossomed where the other man had touched. "It’s just been awhile since anyone could touch me."

"Right." Tim looked Gerry over once more before turning and heading off, expecting Gerry to follow.

And he did.

"I didn't think emo kids came in lumberjack models," Tim joked on the way to the elevator. "What did your mother even feed you?"

"Leitners," Gerry deadpanned.

Tim paused for a moment, then laughed. "I take it back about you sounding like Jon. You're actually funny, for one." When they reached the elevators that would take them from the archive to the lobby, he punched the buttons. "Figures that's what she fed you. She was a bit, off, wasn't she?" Tim glanced up at Gerry, watching for cues.

"You have no idea," Gerry sighed, settling in to wait.

It was a few lift changes and some polite, if tense, greetings between Tim and a few half dozen people before they reached the top floor with the admin offices. Gerard read the nameplate and froze.

Martin Blackwood, Assistant to Peter Lukas, Head of the Magnus Institute.

"What in the fresh hell? A Lukas? When did that happen?" Gerard asked, utterly gobsmacked.

Tim chuckled darkly. "Oh pretty recently, when our little Mart-o arranged Elias's little trip to the clank. Before he went, he asked Lukas to look after the place for him."

Gerard was immediately suspicious of the Martin he'd heard briefly about on the trip up, but was even more suspicious about the Power players. "One avatar keeping watch over another's domain? That level of teamwork is-” he trailed off.

"If it helps, it's in name only and Martin is the one that keeps the bureaucratic mess that's the Institute afloat. And there was a bet involved? I'm not sure if it was Bouchard or Lukas that lost."

Gerry sighed. "The only one guaranteed to lose when the Avatars make bets is all of humanity."

"Have I mentioned how cheery you are yet?" Tim teased. "C'mon, lets stop standing here with our dicks out and get inside already."

Gerry physically bit his tongue as he followed Tim inside the office, flushing bright red at the mental image so helpfully supplied by his brain due to recent events.

With how Tim spoke of him at first, Gerry had expected Martin to look almost hobbit-like, ready to serve them tea like a proper host; the kind of man who spent his evenings reading and was easily as short and round as he was jolly. Then, with the nasty business involving not just one, but two avatars? He was expecting some slick, scummy pencil pusher that tried to work his way to the top without a care for who he put at risk in the process. Martin was neither of these things. 

Gerry was taken aback by the golden curls that would make any Took weep, but he definitely wasn't hobbit sized. Or, perhaps, if you proportionally sized up a hobbit to be bigger than most men. The cherub cheeks and freckles certainly cemented the idea, as did the comfy looking jumper.

"Martin, I brought a new friend," Tim sing-songed, startling both Gerry and Martin.

When Martin looked up at them, Gerry's heart leapt to his throat.

"Jesus, Tim, I asked you to stop coming up here," Martin began.

"Holy shit the Lonely's done a number on you," Gerry blurted out at the same time. 

Storm grey eyes met Gerry's hazel ones, and he wondered if Martin's eyes had always been that color.

"Gerard Keay? I thought you were dead," Martin exclaimed. Gerry sighed. He'd become a celebrity in death. How wonderful.

"That's what I thought too," Tim said, leaning over the desk, "but then-”

Gerard sighed. "Long story, short. Me?" he pressed his hand to his chest, "dead. Gertrude," he waved his page in the air, "bound my soul to a Leitner book my mom used to own. The new Archivist ripped my page out of said book and was supposed to burn it, like we agreed, but it turns out he's too much of a chicken-shit to do so." He looked between the two other men, daring them to defend their friend. "Now that my page has been sitting in the Eye's domain for almost a year, I have, for some reason, been spontaneously summoned and been solid for over an hour now. "

"Over an hour? How long were you in Jon's office before he kicked you out?" Tim asked, curiosity coloring his voice.

"Not important," Gerry replied quickly, catching Martin's scrutinizing glare. "But I wasn't laying in wait or anything. He kept my page in there so that's where I appeared. Then I pushed some of his buttons so he could get an inkling of how pissed I am." He grunted and crossed his arms. "But yeah. I'm just a particularly solid ghost who probably can't even leave the building that has been instructed to 'make myself useful' to the guy who broke his part of the deal and won't let me finally die."

"See," Tim said, gesturing to Gerry, "new friend, stuck here just as much as we are."

Martin sighed, dropping his head into one hand. "Tim that's not how it-" his head snapped back up suddenly. "Didn't you murder your mum?"

"Martin, you can't just ask people-" Tim started, though he gave Gerry a side eye glance.

Gerry finally lost his patience. "Not that it's any of your fucking business, but no, I didn't." He swallowed hard, blinking fast to try and suffocate the fires burning behind his eyes. "She did it to herself. Tried to make herself functionally immortal with the book." He looked down. "Tried to get me to finish it, but I. I couldn't." He glared at the other men, these strangers who didn't know him, but demanded his secrets as readily as their precious Archivist. "And I'm glad I didn't. You lot should be happy about that as well."

Martin and Tim shared a look before turning back to Gerry.

"Look, Gerry, I'm sorry," Tim began.

"That was pretty uncalled for on my part, I'm sorry," Martin stammered a bit, fiddling with his fingers.

Gerry lifted his free hand, "just, stop the interrogation for now, please?" He sighed. "I'm not some American slasher film antagonist or something. Just," he sighed. "Your new spooky ghost-worker? I guess?"

Tim cracked a smile. "Yeah, yeah," he let out a long breath. Martin remained red-faced with shame and silent, eyes locked on some invisible speck on his desk rather than on either of them.

"Okay, so," Tim clapped his hands together again, keeping his thumbs and forefingers pressed against each other and folding the others together, before aiming his double barreled finger gun at Martin, "getting to the point of our little visit," Tim took a step towards Gerry as he unlaced his hands and patted the other man on his lower back. "This guy needs set up in payroll."

Martin's shame was wiped away in an instant. "Are you asking me to put a ghost on payroll?"

"That's what I said," Gerard muttered, just as Tim protested, "well if we force him to work without pay, then it's ghost slavery. I'm pretty sure that's illegal."

"Ghost slavery? Do you even hear yourself?" Martin asked, his voice pitching as it gained volume.

Gerry sighed. "I can't believe that, after death, I'm still trapped in the machine of Imperialist Industrial Capitalism. The Man has truly grown in strength, now that the dead are no longer able to rest."

Martin and Tim shared another look.

"He sounds just like J-” Martin started.

"I know, right?" Tim said, exaggerating the shapes of the words with his mouth in his excitement."

"Look, just," Gerry interrupted them, cheeks red, "can you try to get me on payroll? If it doesn't work it's fine. It's not like I can get a bank account or need to buy anything, but it would be amusing to drain even a little bit of the Ceaseless Watcher's resources since it's keeping me imprisoned and gorging on my fear."

Both of the other men paused immediately, looking between each other and Gerry.

"Fine!” Martin sighed, to which Tim gave a small fist pump and whispered "Yes!”

"You," Martin pointed to Gerard, "can sit. And you," he pointed at Tim, "can go downstairs, kindly ask Jon both what he thinks he's doing, and tell him to please stop it."

Tim grinned, putting his hands behind his head and shifting from foot to foot. "Yeah? Does that mean you'll be escorting our newest co-worker back down to the Archives when you're done? Get some of that musty, dusty air and talk with some of your old friends?"

Martin sighed, "Maybe. If I have time. You did interrupt me while I was working on the schedules for the entire Institute."

Gerry, who had sat down in the chair indicated and found it was the sort that looked nice but made you instantly regret sitting in it, glanced at Martin. He was surprised it was words and not fog that came out of him.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it," Tim sighed, shaking his head. "Call down or send us an email so one of us can get him, then?"

"I'll be fine, Stoker." Gerry interrupted the two, sensing that an unstoppable force was meeting an unmovable object. "I told you, I know this place pretty well." 

"Stoker, is it?" Tim scratched his scruff thoughtfully. "Kinda like that, coming from you." 

Gerry shut his mouth with an audible click, his cheeks heating at the unexpected smoothness.

Martin, however, was unphased "Shoo, you incorrigible flirt. You'll have plenty of time to seduce him over your shared hobby of annoying Jon after I have him set up in payroll, alright?"

Tim grinned as he headed for the door. "Oh, Martin, you know the first spot on my dance card is always reserved for you."

Martin blushed bright red. "I'm going to start throwing things at you if you don't leave now."

"Oh no! Your terrible aim! How will maintenance ever fix the damage?" Tim teased from the doorway.

"Tim!" Martin shouted, a note of desperation matching the irritation in his voice.

"Going, going, gone," Tim called as he slowly pulled the door shut.


	2. Employment Enrollment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerry gets his i's dotted and t's crossed in Martin Blackwood's office. His eyes are then drawn to the Executive Assistant to the Head of the Magnus Institute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! I'm about to get a lot of free time with the Holidays coming up, so hopefully I can edit the next part of this edited and uploaded much sooner. Then I get to edit the monster that is the next work. Yay!!
> 
> Smut will be coming next chapter I promise ❤️
> 
> Shoutout to my lovely beta @lyssakaz3 on twitter. I am sorry for all of this plot in my porn.
> 
> As always, detailed CW in the bottom notes.

Gerard and Martin waited for a moment after they heard the click of the latch, listening for footsteps or a hand turning the knob again. Then, after not hearing anything, the two let out their collective breath.

"Well, that was something," Martin sighed, though his voice settled into something cheery. "Sorry about that, and well," he reached up and scratched the back of his head. "I'd say we're usually more professional than that, but that would be a lie."

"Don't worry about it," Gerry muttered, looking down at the carpet. "I, uh," he gave Martin a half smile, "used to be Gertrude's unofficial gofer and Leitner book burner, so I'm used to the vibe of the Archives."

Martin gave him a bashful smile in return, "Oookay,” A bit reassuring to be honest." He turned his attention back to his computer, typing for a moment before clicking around with his mouse. "I thought the rampant chaos was something we brought down on the place ourselves."

"Nah," Gerard shifted in the chair, trying to get comfortable. It was hard to be when there was a spring or something that was pressing up against his pierced taint. "Considering how much I burned in the Archivist's trash can alone, I'd guess the damage you all have done is pretty tame in comparison."

Martin stopped typing. "You what?" He asked, a bit of a giggle in his voice. "Seriously? In the Archives?"

Gerard rolled his eyes. "Of course not in the Archives. I took it out to the courtyard like a reasonable arsonist." Then he raised a brow. "Is that really so unbelievable?" He was fully aware of the image he exhuded, considering how carefully he had crafted it while he was alive.

Martin shook his head, his curls bouncing and catching the light. "No, no, it's just," he ducked his head, but Gerry could still see his grin. "A long story. Let's just say I, uh, may have done something similar."

Gerard caught himself admiring the way Martin's blush made his freckles pop. "You? Really?" He asked, looking over Martin with an appraising eye. Martin looked like he'd never burnt more than a candle in his life. Then again, it was always the quiet ones that surprised you.

"Is that really so unbelievable?" Martin nearly hummed his own words back to him. Gerard felt his heart flutter in his chest; if he even still had a heart.

"Guess not, when you work in the business of archiving ghosts and ghost stories," Gerard replied, leaning back in the chair to take pressure off his taint.

Martin's lips twitched in a smile. "I actually think you're the first real ghost around here, so congratulations on that. I don't think humans, books, or objects powered by the world's most primal fears really count."

"Thats fair." Gerard leaned back enough so that his shoulders rested on the back of the chair and his hips braced on the very edge. He kept his gaze on Martin, no matter what the cost to his neck was, as the other man continued to type. His page rested in his lap. "You seem to be pretty knowledgeable about the entities," Gerry started, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands on his chest.

"Yeah, I suppose it comes with the job, once you're here long enough." Martin replied idly, his attention clearly on his computer. He even bit his lip a little as he tried to concentrate after replying.

"Jon wasn't, when he first found me. I had to spell it all out for him," Gerry offered, analyzing Martin's reaction.

It was enough to get his attention off the screen for a moment. "Really?" He paused, thinking. "I suppose that makes sense. You said he found you a year ago, right? That would have been," he hesitated, "during his time in America, right?" His brows knit just a bit when he finally looked over at Gerard again.

"Yep," Gerard popped the p. "I was being kept as a bestiary of the supernatural by two hunters, thanks to Gertrude abandoning me over there."

"Trevor and Julia?" Martin asked, a note of fear in his voice. Gerard grunted in affirmation.

Martin sat back in his own chair, whistling low. "That couldn't have been very pleasant, given what Jon told us of them from his kidnapping." He looked back to Gerard. "He didn't mention you at all, though."

"Archivists do so love their secrets," Gerard simpered, earning him a squint before Martin returned his attention to the computer. Gerard couldn't help the grin that spread across his face, even if his smug satisfaction from figuring out the man before him warred with some unknowable other feeling in his chest. "Honestly, if things had gone to plan, you wouldn't have ever needed to know about me. Gertrude only bound me so that her successor could ask me any questions that Elias refused to answer." He sighed and let his head tilt back for a moment to rest his neck. "Course I didn't know that. All I knew is that he wanted a statement, and it was the leverage I needed to get someone to finally free me."

Martin's hands had frozen above his keyboard again. When Gerard finished speaking, Martin used his pinky to hit backspace several times. "Didn't he free you, though? By removing your page from the book?"

Gerard looked up at Martin again, a little surprised to find himself meeting the other man's gaze. "I'm still trapped in un-dying, Martin. I'm trapped as much here as I was with the hunters. Maybe moreso. At least I wasn't fleshy and more prone to trigger apprehension when I asked someone to pretty please burn the page made from my own skin so my pain and fear finally stop."

Martin froze for a moment, then sighed and pulled his hands away from the keyboard to rest in his lap. "There's not another way to free you? You said you're getting more solid? Is there a way we could-"

”Its just a side effect from being in the same domain as the book I was written into for too long. My body is long dead, probably buried in a pauper's grave or scattered to the wind outside of Pittsburgh. This,” Gerry patted the page on his lap. "Is the only physical bit of me left. If you can even count it."

Another pause settles over them, broken only by Martin's sigh. "I'm sorry, Gerard."

Gerry waved him off. "Don't apologise unless you intend to fix it for me. Otherwise, your sympathy is worthless."

Martin pouted. "That's fair, I suppose," he replied begrudgingly, before he sighed. "I suppose I should list you as a temp in our system, then, if you don't plan on being around for long."

"Appreciate it," Gerard agreed, closing his eyes for a moment. He waited for Martin to get sucked back into whatever payroll system the Institute used before speaking again.

"So you do know about the entities, and the consequences of getting involved in any way with their avatars, but you've gone and involved yourself with two of them. How is that working out for you?"

He could practically hear the record scratch in Martin's head when the other man froze this time.

"Excuse me?" Martin finally spoke, giving Gerard a death glare that might have been threatening to someone alive. And if that person was a stranger.

Gerard sat up, balancing on the very edge of the chair. His page slid off his lap and fell to the floor, sliding underneath the desk. Gerry would get it later. "I know you heard me when I came in here. You're utterly surrounded in the Lonely, wouldn't be surprised if you started oozing it like a Lukas soon." He plucked the little sign with Martin's name on it off his desk and began to play with it. "And at the same time, you're clearly beholden by the Eye. It’s claim on you isn’t as strong as it is on Stoker and the Archivist, but it’s enough that you aren’t repelled from the institute. A fitting puppet for Lukas I suppose. He’d need someone to run this place for him, and who better than someone he’s clearly gotten a hold over but will be able to work the actual long hours a position like this requires.” 

He swings the name plate between his thumb and forefinger. “Historically, the Lonely and the Eye play nice with each other, but Lukas and Bouchard are both the primary avatars of their respective entities. It makes this all the more suspicious.” He let the name plate clatter back onto the desk top, getting a measure of Martin’s rising rage. “Stoker mentioned they had a wager on. I wonder why you ended up as one of the chips.”

Martin turned nearly purple by the time he was able to speak. “That’s not what’s going on here at all,” he seethed. “I don’t know what you heard from Tim or Jon or anyone else, but I’m,” he stopped. “I know what I’m doing. I’m not anyone’s puppet. But I can’t explain it, alright?” He sighed and ran a hand through his curls, mussing them. “We don’t know each other, so I’m not going to ask you to trust me, but you can very well sod off because it’s not any of your business.”

Gerard leaned back again, Cheshire grin spreading across his face. “Ah yes. No one’s business but your own. You and Mr. Lonely Lukas. A problem you can’t let anyone know about or else you won’t be able to solve it. A chance for you to be the hero for once.”

Martin banged his fist down onto the desk top, rattling the pens in their jar and setting off the Newton’s Cradle. The latter was most likely inherited from the desk’s former occupant- Elias would be the sort of prick to have one. “That’s not it at all!” He shouted. “You don’t, you can’t possibly understand.”

“I can’t understand if you don’t tell me anything,” Gerard pointed out, letting his elbows rest on the velvet padded arm rests of the chair and letting his hands fall, open and out, in a mock surrender. “And you can’t tell anyone can you? Which means it’s all up to you and your new boss. A pretty juvenile isolation tactic if you ask me.”

Martin stood now, his hands resting on the desk as he towered over the smiling Gerard. “Something is coming. Worse than Peter or Elias or Orsinov and the Unknowing. I can’t stop it without working with Peter, and he won’t fill me in more until I play along with his game. If that’s what it takes, I’m fine not getting anyone else involved. The less casualties, the better.”

Gerard laughed. “Oh, ho ho. A martyr complex for Martin. Does that make it a Martyrn complex?” He closed his eyes shook his head, smile still plastered on his face. “Sorry, that was a bad one.” 

Sitting back up, Gerard looked at Martin and tilted his head playfully. “And what about Elias, the Institute, or even your precious Archivist. They can Know things. If there’s a threat thats,” he put air quotes on the words, “bigger than all the others,” before continuing with “why can’t they help? Seems pretty stupid to not take advantage of the pretty enormous resource that is the Ceaseless Watcher.”

Martin’s mouth twisted, and he crossed his arms defensively. “Elias doesn’t think it’s that much of a threat. Peter and I are making use of the Archives thank you very much, and Jon,” Gerard watched Martin’s face fall just a bit, and the man’s voice softened. “I’m keeping Jon out of it for now. He’s- stopping the Unknowing and- he needs a break. Better to let him rest until I know what’s going on and how he can help.”

Gerard rolled his eyes. “So you’re telling me,” He began to tick off his fingers. “This big bad threat is not enough for Elias to worry about, when he was concerned with the threat of the unknowing that you all successfully stopped.” One finger went up. 

“Peter Lukas, avatar of the Lonely, is concerned enough to be actively mucking about in another entity’s realm, but not enough to get either avatar of that entity involved.” A second finger. 

“But instead picks a person with no Knowing powers to help, telling them that only he can help stop it.” A third finger. 

“And he forbids that person from telling anyone else, even so far as discouraging that person from interacting with his loved ones," he put up two fingers at that, taking note of the way Martin flinched at the phrase loved ones. "by refusing to divulge the details of said threat if he does. Do I have the situation right?"

Thankfully it's only imaginary smoke he sees coming out of Martin's ears and not some Lonely fog. "I can't help unless I'm saturated in the Lonely, alright?" Martin shoots back. "Its stupid and dangerous, but it's the only way."

Gerard lifted another finger at Martin's words. "The only way, huh?" He smiled, a cruel cant to his lips. "And you even trust Lukas, too." He put up a seventh finger. "Are you counting these red flags with me, Blackwood? Or did you stop caring about them once you started fucking around with the World's Loneliest Wanker?"

Martin's expression changed from irritated to absolutely molten in rage. "I am not fucking Peter Lukas!” he spat. "How dare you insinuate-”

”Oh, Blackwood, I didn't say anything about you fucking Lukas. That was all you," Gerard pointed out with a needling laugh. "You must go for the loner types; Lukas, Sims, maybe even Stoker, though he seems sociable enough." He smirks. "You want to save them, care for them even if they don't show you a scrap of affection in return. Was it Mum or Dad that didn't hug you enough and left you wide open for the Lonely to snatch you up?"

Martin finally turned incandescent in rage, stomping around his desk to grab Gerard by the collar and haul him out of the chair. "This ends now. I don't care what you do or where you go, but I want you out of my office."

Gerard finally dropped his numbered fingers, his hands grabbing at Martin's on his collar. He could feel the rush flow through him as Martin manhandled him, the slightly taller man forcing him to put his weight on the balls of his feet, even if his feet were still mostly on the ground. Oh he was definitely in trouble now.

"Not going to add me to the payroll after all?" Gerard couldn't help but tease. "I guess the institute condones Ghost Slavery after all."

"I don't need you here to do it," Martin hissed, starting to drag Gerry towards the door, giving the other man some unfortunate flashbacks from earlier that afternoon. "Certainly not when you come up here just to-" he sputtered, "make fun of me."

"Is that what you think it was," Gerry whispered, forcing Martin to quiet the blood pounding in his ears so he could hear. "I'm not making fun of you, Martin. On the contrary, I am very, very concerned."

"You've got a funny way of showing it," Martin snapped, his gaze meeting Gerry's.

Gerry finally got a glimpse of blue under the grey storm in the other man's eyes.

"The only way to stay safe from the Lonely is to stay connected to others, loved ones," Gerard murmured. "Provoking an emotional response in general, but especially regarding those loved ones, is the easiest way to do that."

Gerard felt his weight drop as they stopped and Martin loosed his grip on Gerry's collar. Gerry risked swallowing before he continued. "What is it that Peter has you so scared of that you're willing to damn yourself to protect the others from?"

Martin swallowed hard as well. "The Extinction," Martin finally admitted. "Peter is concerned that a new entity, the Extinction, is going to manifest and take us all out, including the avatars of the other entities."

Gerard flipped through his mental catalog and froze. "Martin," he began slowly, not wanting the other man to startle. "You're concerned that a new entity, without the power to create avatars or stage a ritual, is going to kill everything and every one as soon as it conceptualizes itself."

Martin paused, swallowed. "Well, yeah, it's Extinction, right? That's kind of what it does."

"Martin," Gerry replied softly. "Think of how many apocalyptic extinction events have been predicted, only to get pushed back time and time again. Even in just our lifetimes we've survived Y2K and 2012. They keep pushing global warming, though that ones a real threat, back again and again without an exact timeline, and even then that's because there are people fighting to stop it. Scores and scores of people, none of them truly working alone." He squeezes Martin's hand with both of his. "Nothing short of a full, successful ritual could change that. Even for something as terrifying as Extinction."

Martin's grip finally relaxed fully, and Gerry was able to extricate himself. 

Gerry continued."It hurts to hear it, Martin, but it sounds like you're both part of the wager and a pawn in the game Lukas and Bouchard are playing. What they’re doing to you, I can guarantee, on your friend’s lives, isn’t going to save anyone. Especially not you.”

Martin went to open his mouth, but Gerry kept talking. “You can ask the Archivist if I’m lying. Or not. I don’t have a reason to put a foot in your path, stopping you from saving all of humanity. What I am is a damned soul who doesn’t want the same thing to happen to others, not if I can help it.”

Martin narrowed his eyes. “How did you do that?” he asked. “I mean, maybe my question was going to be a bit predictable, but-”

“I’m capable of Knowing, too.” Gerry interrupted, before Martin could go on a question asking tangent. “Just like Sims, or Gertrude. It’s never been entirely reliable or anywhere near as powerful, but it’s had its uses.”

“Huh,” Martin took a half step back to examine Gerry again, unknowingly causing a bolt to run down the other’s spine as he was beheld. “Was it before or after your,” Martin lifted his arm, bent it at a 90 degree angle, and pointed at his elbow. “Tattoos?”

Gerry grinned. “Before, but I like to think they helped,” He held up one of his own eye-tattoed elbows, visible thanks to his T-shirt. “There are more, you know.” He held up his hands for Martin to appraise, tiny eyes covering each joint. Gerry’s cheeks flushed when Martin actually reached out and took one of his hands, then Martin used his free hand to trace them. He flipped Gerry’s hand over, brushing the eye at his wrist. His touch left a trail of heat wherever he traced.

“Those are incredibly unsettling,” Martin said, still looking at the tattoos. “Beautiful work, but creepy.” He let Gerry’s hand go. “Doesn’t it just invite the Eye to watch you wherever you go?”

Gerry shrugged. “Doesn’t make much of a difference now, being a ghost employee slash prisoner of the Watcher.”

“Right.” Martin sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Detailed CW  
> Canon level of arson mention  
> More mention of death/suicide - Gerry's death, asking Jon to free him  
> Body horror- Mention of Gerry's page being his skin  
> Piercings- while currently not in a sexual context, Gerry has issues sitting comfortably in his chair due to his Guiche piercing  
> Mention of Peter Lukas potentially coercing Martin into sex as a way to bind him to the lonely  
> Abuse/manipulation mention- Gerry delves into the topic of Peter's obvious tactics to isolate Martin.  
> Martin's Mom- in an attempt to get Martin to reflect on his actions/Peter's manipulation, Gerry asks about parental neglect in a casual/caustic manner
> 
> Buckle up- It's smut time next chapter.


	3. Icebreaker Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerry engages in a bit of a fun ice breaker with Martin; he pulls Martin back from the Lonely and Martin pulls him closer to the Eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to earn our rating~~~
> 
> Thanks again to @lyssakaz3 for beta reading!
> 
> The next fic in the series is fully written, it just needs edited. I also have a lot more fics in the fire for this universe so be on the lookout ;)
> 
> Detailed CW in the end notes

There was another breadth of silence.

“I’ve got more if you want to see,” Gerry offered.

“More what? Eyes?” Martin asked with a grin.

“Tattoos. Besides the eyes.” Gerard played with the hem of his shirt. "Just the ones that are in publically appropriate places of course." He gave Martin his best flirty smile.

Martin raised his brows and giggled. "Just those places?" he teased back, before rubbing his face. "Christ, I was ready to throw you out on your arse just now. And now you're-" he threw his hands up for a quick moment, letting them fall back to his sides with a small smack against his legs. "And I'm just okay with it?"

"Flirting? Yeah," Gerry crossed his arms and cocked his hip, smirk. "I've been told I'm a bit much before," he teased, taking a step closer. He noticed Martin swallow and Gerard's smirk turned hungry. That intoxicating feeling returned, buzzing up inside. "Do I need to dial it down?"

Martin swallowed and loosened his tie a bit. "I, uh, no?" he replied, his voice pitching high at the end.

Gerry grinned. "Good," he reached out and loosened Martin's tie even more, but made sure it was still straight when he was done. "I'm going to be honest with you, Martin. Today is the first day since before I died that I've felt anything other than fear, pain, or misery." He reached up to smooth the way Martin's sweater hung over his pecs. His hands lingered on Martin's chest, soaking in the warmth the other man radiated. "And I'm ready to feel more of the good stuff." His eyes moved from his hands to Martin's eyes. It might have been wishful thinking, but it seemed that the fog in his eyes was replaced with hunger. 

"You need pulled back from the Lonely just a little bit more, and I'm a little lonely myself." Gerry removed one hand from Martin's chest to tuck one of Martin's errant curls away. He definitely noticed as the other man leaned ever so slightly into his touch. "Honestly, you've had me worked up since you nearly hauled me out of here. Says a bit more about me than you, but I'd really, really like it if you wanted to toss me around some more."

Gerard's gaze had fallen back to his hands as he spoke, both back on Martin's broad chest. Twenty eight of Gerry's eye tattoos stared back at him, seeming to blink as he flexed his fingers. Martin's chest rose and fell under Gerry's palms, the other man's breath heavy in his chest. It dawned on him that he was kneading Martin's chest like a cat might when his gaunt hands were covered by larger, softer ones. He drew in a sharp inhale.

"Gerard?" Martin asked gently.

"Gerry," he replied, looking back up at Martin's face.

Martin's face was as red as Gerry sensed his own was. "Gerry," Martin whispered, squeezing his hands lightly.

"I know," Gerard turned his hands so that he was holding Martin's properly. "I have a feeling I know who you really want, and that's okay." He gave Martin a shy smile. "I can't be him, but I can be here for you now." He shuffled just a tiny bit closer, tilting his head at the perfect angle. "I want to be." He squeezed Martin's hands back. "I want you." He locked his eyes on Martin's lips, at the tongue that darted out to wet them.

"Jesus Christ," Martin breathed, tilting his head until their lips were a hair apart. "I haven't- for awhile-" he pulled back. ”Are you sure, Gerry?"

Gerard squeezed Martin's hands again, his body as ready as dry kindling reaching for a spark to light up. "Absolutely sure." Gerry pulled Martin's hands closer, placing them on his chest and pressing them down firmly. Firm enough for Martin to feel the metal barbells pierced through Gerry's hardened nipples. He smirked as Martin let out a tiny "oh, fuck."

"That's the idea, yeah?" Gerry teased, encouraging Martin to play with the piercings through his shirt with their hands. "It might be a little hard to pretend I'm Sims with these," he teased, pressing up into Martin's touch. "But I don't mind 's long as you fuck me the way you want to fuck him."

Martin turned an even brighter shade of red, his secret caught between his heart and Gerry's smile. Before Martin could start blabbering, Gerry closed the distance between them and kissed him as sweetly as he possibly could; innocent in a way that belied the heady lust in his gut.

Martin kissed Gerard back, pinching the other's nipples at the same time. Gerry gasped and Martin took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, thrusting his tongue into the shorter man's mouth to chase the sound. Gerry melted into the kiss, bringing his hands up to fist in Martin's thick vest as he ran the tip of his tongue along Martin's.

They didn't break for air until Martin rolled his hips against Gerry's, causing the other man to moan when he felt Martin's erection press into his hips. 

"Oh thank god," Gerry breathed, pressing the line of his body against Martin's. "Really wasn't sure if you were gonna go for it for a second there."

Martin chuckled, his face still red, and tucked a lock of Gerry's hair back. "I'm not usually one for a- uh- casual dalliance, but you're quite insistent." His other hand moved from Gerry's chest to his hip, pulling him even closer. "And very attractive." His blush flared brilliantly as he complimented Gerry, something that stoked the fires raging in Gerry's gut even higher.

"Thank you," Gerry replied, pressing a quick kiss to Martin's lips. "I do try, though you're the most handsome man in this building by far."

Martin tensed a bit at the compliment. "You don't need to flatter me like that. I was already interested."

Gerry narrowed his eyes. "Flattery? You think I'm lying to you?" He flattened his hands on Martin's chest and pushed the other man back until Martin's thighs bumped into his desk. "Martin Blackwood, I have done nothing but speak the truth since I entered this office, and I'll have you know that I've wanted you to fuck my brains out since I first saw you." He rolled his hips against Martin's to prove his point.

Martin moaned and jerked, thrusting his hips into Gerry's as his hands splayed out behind him to try and balance himself. The name plate and Newton's Cradle both went flying.

"Letting the Lonely have you would have been an unimaginable sin," Gerry continued, "you shine like the sun, Martin, blessing everyone around you with your warmth, your light, and your care." Reaching up, he tangled his fingers in those perfect golden ringlets, overjoyed to find that they were as thick and soft as he imagined. "A sensitive man, no doubt a sensitive lover," he tugged those gorgeous curls playfully. "Let me make you feel as good as you deserve for once."

In lieu of an equally as poetic response, Martin closed the distance between their lips once more. He sat back on the edge of the desk, wrapped his legs and arms around Gerry, and pulled him flush against him. 

Martin's warm hands on his back drove Gerry just as mad as the friction on his lips and dick. Gerry wrapped his arms around Martin's neck and buried his fingers in Martin's hair. He tugged the thick, gorgeous curls, playing with them as much as using them to pull Martin closer. It pulled a soft moan out of the other man, which sent another bolt of pure arousal down Gerry's spine. He groaned and sucked Martin's lower lip between his teeth, flicking his tongue against it before letting go.

"Holy shit, Gerry," Martin panted, not letting him get far for air. If not for Martin's hold on him, Gerry might have ascended from the sound of Martin's voice alone in that moment; husky and thick with desire as he strained to pull in enough air. 

"Yes?" Gerry teased, pressing a peck to Martin's lips, chin, and nose in quick succession. "God, you taste amazing." Gerry gave up on catching his breath in favor of kissing down from Martin's lips to his collar, fingers regretfully leaving Martin's hair to finish undoing that damned tie. He was able to slip it off without pulling away, letting it drop to the side while his fingers quickly moved on to undoing Martin's collar.

"Feels so good," Martin breathed in Gerry's ear, spurring the other to even greater heights. Martin's hands left Gerry's back, one combing through Gerry's surprisingly silky hair while the other clasped onto his shoulder like a lifeline. The thumb on Gerry's shoulder rubbed back and forth, a reassuring and calming counterpoint to their grinding hips.

"I haven't even started yet," Gerry joked after a quick lungful of air. He undid enough buttons to make it down to the v of Martin's sweater vest before driving back in to kiss every inch of bared skin.

As much as he tasted Martin with his lips and tongue, Gerry pulled lungfuls of Martin's scent through his nose. He smelled like the home Gerry had always longed for, but never got; clean and warm with a hint of spice and old books. There was a bit of natural musk and sweat as well, which only intensified as Gerry continued to lavish Martin with affection. It chased away the last of the stale smoke and chill damp that the Lonely left on him, to Gerry's smug delight.

"Are you trying to eat me?" Martin teased, his words cutting off into a moan as Gerry nipped him.

Gerry sucked at the bite until it bloomed into a lovely mark, breaking away from Martin's skin with an audible pop. "I could," Gerry replied, letting his hands trail down from Martin's collar to his sides, taking his time to feel what he could through Martin's clothes. "If you wanted. I'd prefer it if you wrecked my ass with that huge dick of yours, but-”

Martin let out a loud groan and ducked his head to leave his own mark on Gerry, bucking his hips and grinding into him. Gerry felt his soul coalesce in that single point of contact, whining high and needy until Martin freed his neck.

"Just give me a moment," Martin murmured in his ear. He dropped his hands to Gerry's ass and squeezed, earning him a loud moan in return. "I should have a bottle around somewhere-” he stopped himself. "I mean if you still want to?"

"God yes," Gerry panted, reaching up to grab Martin by his lapels and drag him down for another searing kiss. "Didn't peg you as the type to keep anything remotely kinky at work. Lucky for me you are," he smiled against Martin's lips before taking a step back.

Martin's eyes were slightly unfocused, his mouth left slightly ajar. His hands fell from Gerry's ass as soon as the other man pulled back, and he placed them on the desk to keep from reaching for Gerry again. "I," Martin began, slowly pushing himself off the desk, his face bright red. "I'm not?" He covered his face with his hands briefly, before forcing them down.

Gerry raised a brow. "I'm not judging, you know."

Martin raised a placating hand. "I know, I know, it's just. Complicated?" his voice pitched at the end, something Gerry was coming to appreciate when Martin was nervous. "I, uh, it's a long story but, I've had to stay overnight at the Institute a few times. For extended periods." He rubbed his hands on his pant legs, and something about that had Gerry grinning preditorially. "It's just been easier to keep certain things on hand. Essentials."

Gerry cocked his hips. "Right the essentials," he began ticking things off on his fingers. "Toothbrush, change of clothes, lube, a vibe, your favorite soap?"

Martin glared. "Cheeky," he muttered, reaching out to grab Gerry's hands to make him stop. "Can you behave long enough for me to find the lube or do I need to find a better use for your mouth first?"

Gerry didn't even attempt to hide his full body shiver. "I can be very, very good for the right people, Mr. Blackwood."

"Can you?" Martin asked, shifting both of Gerry's hands to one of his own while the other reached up to stroke Gerry's cheek. "Then I can promise you that I won't fuck your tight little ass if you misbehave. Might have to fuck your face instead."

Gerry's eyelids fluttered shut, and he felt his lashes tickle Martin's hand. He had no idea where Martin hid this side of himself or how Gerry had managed to pull it out, but Gerry was actually starting to mentally thank Jon for not burning his page yet. "I'll be good as long as you promise to cum inside me," he said as soon as he was able to open his eyes again.

Martin swore under his breath, something Gerry didn't catch, and slid his thumb into Gerry's mouth. Gerry began suckling on it without being asked, flicking his tongue over the tip.

"You're cute when you think you have any power to bargain with me," Martin leveled him with his imperious glare. Gerry moaned and continued to suck, melting in Martin's hands.

"I'll take it into consideration, though. If you're good." Martin pulled his thumb from Gerry's mouth, cooing when Gerry tried to chase after it. "Better things to come, love." He dropped Gerry's hands to cup his face in his hands, his wet thumb painting saliva across Gerry's cheek as he stroked it. "Will you be alright for a moment? I just need to find a bottle, it won't take long."

Gerry wondered when he'd become so transparent, leaning deep into Martin's touch. Was it before or after he tried to let Martin go to get the lube the first time. "I'll be fine," he whispered, hesitantly meeting Martin's eyes. "Might start stripping for you if I get bored, though."

Martin smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Perish the thought," he teased, stealing one last sweet kiss from Gerry. "You might as well strip while I look. I can't fuck you properly while you've still got all your clothes on."

Gerry laughed at that, willing himself not to chase after Martin's touch as the other man pulled away. "I mean, you could try," he joked, just to see the other man roll his eyes.

As Martin padded around the office, sticking his nose into different file boxes, bags, and drawers, Gerry busied himself with his clothes. He found they were much more physical now than when he'd disrobed in the Archivist's office or even the bathroom after. He started with his boots, untying the knot and loosening the laces until he could kick them off. Then he shucked his shirt, pants, and socks, leaving himself only in his skivvies in the heart of the Watcher's domain. That thought gave him a shiver moreso than the amount of cool air caressing his skin, and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not. It certainly didn't affect his raging erection, which was trying to poke its way out of his underwear.

He folded his clothes and put them on one of the ugly guest chairs while his boots went on the other. They deserved it as much as the rug he wiped his slightly clammy toes on, when he discovered that both the upholstery and the rug had thousands of tiny eyes woven into them. "Fucking creep," he muttered under his breath, almost hoping Elias could hear him.

A soft gasp drew his attention across the room to where Martin stood, mouth open as his hands held a decent sized pump bottle of lube. His mouth hung open slightly, and his eyes were locked on Gerry.

Martin had been looking just long enough for Gerry's first thoughts to be filled with self-consciousness. He looked down at himself, hands coming up his chest to slide down his torso, looking for the defect Martin must see. Was it the burns, covering a large swath of his body with puckered, silvery tissue? Was it the amount of eye tattoos that started back at him? The patchy body hair that grew in thick clumps where it wasn't interrupted by the scars? The straining bulge in his underwear? His black briefs with the tiny ghosts on it? (He wondered secretly if the Web fed on the fact that he'd been wearing those the day he'd died).

"Gerry? Gerry?" He started, not having heard Martin come over until the other man's voice was right in his ear, his hands in his vision as he cupped his face in his hands. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Do you want to stop?"

Gerry's hands immediately came up to cover Martin's, desperate to keep him close. He shook his head first, swallowing hard as words escaped him for a moment. "It feels like I'll disappear for good when you stop touching me, page be damned." He met Martin's eyes, warmed by the concern in them. "I probably won't, though we might not want to test it."

Martin leaned down to kiss Gerry again, sweetly yet thoroughly. "I'm not going to let you go," he soothed when they broke for air, pulling Gerry close. Gerry closed his eyes, rubbing his face on Martin's impossibly soft button up; he must have removed the sweater vest when Gerry wasn't paying attention. "If I do, it won't be for more than a few seconds, and I'll stay close, okay?" His hands were branding irons on Gerry's bare skin, marking him body and soul as Martin's. At least in this moment.

"Okay," Gerry exhaled, wrapping his arms around Martin in return. "Good." He smiled up at Martin again. "Very good." It wasn't necessary for him to go onto his tiptoes to kiss Martin, but it was certainly fun to. "You found it then?" He asked eagerly, hands resting on Martin's chest again.

Martin chuckled softly and kissed Gerry's forehead, making Gerry blush. "Yes you silly, beautiful man," he teased without malice, smoothing Gerry's hair back with one hand."Would you be able to handle getting the door? It's usually a ghost town up here, but I don't want to risk it."

"So there are other Institute ghosts?" Gerry teased with an arched brow.

Martin sighed. "No, just the Lonely." He gave Gerry a squeeze. "You get the door, I'll clear the desk off?"

Gerry strained against Martin's hold, trying to lean in for a kiss. "You just want to get a good look, don't you."

Martin still held Gerry firm, but leaned in himself to indulge the other man, kissing him sweetly. "Maybe. I wasn't able to get a good look while you stripped and folded your clothes all nice and neat."

Gerry's entire body nearly combusted with the heat that flooded him at Martin's words. He hadn't even known the other man had noticed.

"So, do you think you can handle it?" Martin asked, his voice light but his gaze heavy.

Gerry shivered. "Yeah just," he exhaled. "Eyes on me?"

Martin let Gerry go in increments, letting the other man acclimate without his touch. "I can do that," he said, grinning just as slowly.

Gerry took one more shaky breath before turning around and heading for the door. He could hear Martin muttering and moving things around behind him, but felt the other man's eyes on him the entire time.

Once the bolt was thrown Gerry rushed, but didn’t run, back to Martin. The surface of the desk was swept clear of office detritus with only the bottle of lube that Martin was fiddling with on it. "Wish I had a bed or a cot up here, even a couch to lay you out properly, but-"

"The desk is fine," Gerry interrupted, slipping between Martin and said desk to place his hands on the other man’s chest. "The wall would be too," Gerry's hands trailed further south, feeling Martin's breath hitch as he caressed his stomach and abdomen, slipping even farther south before shooting out to his hip bones, holding him steady as Gerry ground against him firmly. "I'd risk the carpet burn and let you fuck me on the floor at this point."

Martin, recovering from the breathy gasp Gerry startled out of him, chuckled again. "No, no, none of that," he soothed, one hand coming up to trace lovingly over Gerry’s left cheekbone while the other moved to Gerry's hip to keep him still. "I'll give you what you need, maybe even what you asked for, but you have to settle."

Gerry groaned and closed his eyes, dropping his head to rest on Martin's shoulder. Martin chuckled yet again as Gerry gathered his words, biting and mouthing at the fabric of Martin's shirt. When he was ready, Gerry let it go to press a kiss to Martin's jaw.

"You could throw me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes and not be phased, couldn't you?" Gerry finally asked, sucking on Martin's earlobe after. "Do you have any idea how sexy that is?" This close, Gerry could feel the warmth radiating from Martin’s blush.. 

Martin rolled his eyes and let go of Gerry's hip to give him a quick smack on the ass. "I thought I told you to settle?"

Immediately, Gerry's eyes blew wide and his knees buckled. He grabbed fistfuls of Martin's shirt sleeves to keep himself steady, though it was Martin's hands on him that kept him standing. 

"Oh God, I'm so, so sorry," Martin was apologizing when Gerry could make out words again. "I should have asked-”

"Please stop apologizing for what's already the best night of my life." Gerry told him with a gasp. His face reddened as he felt a small dribble of pre-cum surge into his briefs, creating a small wet patch that was hopefully undetectable with the dark color and pattern. "Well, un-death I suppose.”

Martin sighed, rubbing his hands up and down Gerry's upper arms. "Alright, just. Tell me to stop and I'll stop." His gaze turned firm. "I'm not playing any games with consent without negotiations first, especially when we've never slept together before."

Gerry only grinned. "Oh, Mr. Blackwood, you'll have to tell me about some of the games you've played before so we can compare notes," he teased as he hopped up onto the desk. “For now, can I get my reward for being good?”

Martin pinned Gerry to the desk without saying a word. One of his hands was enough to pin both of Gerry’s above his head, while the other hand pulled Gerry closer to the edge of the desk by his hip. Gerry moaned loudly and arched into the touch, his body coming alight once more.

"I can't say you haven’t been doing well," Martin whispered, his glasses coming just a bit off of his nose as he leaned over Gerry. His legs nudged Gerry's open wider as he stepped closer. "You've been a very good boy, but you still need to be patient." Martin let go of Gerry's hip, trailing his fingers ever so lightly against the skin just above Gerry's waistband. It was enough warning for Gerry to bite his lower lip as he concentrated on not bucking up into Martin's touch as Martin traced over his straining cock.

"Good, so good," Martin cooed, stroking only a hair more firmly as he leaned down even further to give Gerry a filthy kiss. "Just relax and take what I give you. Everything you deserve." His hand shifted back to Gerry's hip as he brought their hips as flush as he could, grinding his own clothed erection against Gerry's ass. "You certainly won't be able to take all this without relaxing."

Gerry moaned, clasping his hands tighter as he tried not to writhe. "Martin, please,” he begged, the heat in his belly begging to suffuse through him.

"Please, what Gerry?" Martin simpered, thumb rubbing along the hollow of Gerry's Adonis line. "Use your words."

Gerry squeezed his eyes shut. "Jesus, you sound like my mum with that," he laughed breathily. Before Martin could apologize, Gerry added, "just don't call me Gerard and it'll be fine."

Martin smiled softly, hips stilling as he reached up to fix Gerry's hair. "Of course." He gave him another sweet kiss, lips just barely brushing. "I'm going to flip you over to prep you, but I don't want you to cum until you're on my cock and I can see your face." He nipped Gerry's lower lip. "Do you think you can handle that, and keep your arms above your head without me holding them?"

Gerry shivered. "That sounds like a tall order," he replied, looking from Martin's lips to his eyes. "But I think I can handle it."

"Good boy," Martin praised him before pulling Gerry's briefs off completely. 

Gerry fought the urge to move his hands to cover himself or his face. Instead he kept his eyes on Martin, who wore a rather pleased grin.

"Oh Gerry, you're perfect," Martin breathed, grasping Gerry's freed cock and giving it a few testing strokes.

Gerry kept his hips still, but threw his head back and moaned. "Martin, please," he whined, eyes shutting.

"Even more perfect when you beg."

Gerry didn't have time to register Martin's hand leaving his dick before he was pulled closer and flipped onto his chest, his hair covering his arms which hadn't moved at all. Martin fixed it for him, brushing Gerry's hair aside so he could drag his hands down Gerry's arms to his back to his ass. When he reached it, Martin gave Gerry's cheeks a quick squeeze and another pop. Gerry nearly screamed with how loud his moan was, eyes squeezed shut and toes digging into the carpet so he didn't move.

"Very, very good, Gerry," Martin whispered in his ear, hands kneading and squeezing his ass. "Looks like you can be a good boy for the right person." He ground against Gerry again, letting him get an idea of what was to come, which earned him a moan.

"Easy," one of Martin's hands came to rest on the small of his back, centering him and helping him stay still. A slick finger came up to tease his hole, massaging lube into his rim without dipping inside. Gerry inhaled sharply and sighed, letting himself relax against the lacquered surface of the desk.

"There we go," Martin slowly pressed his finger inside. The heat, pressure, and mass of it choked another moan out of Gerry, who did his best not to buck up or clench down. Martin continued to whisper soft praises as Gerry slowly relaxed, only dragging another sound out of the man below him when he began to thrust his finger in and out.

"You look so good like this," Martin told him, rubbing Gerry's lower back as he began to ease a second finger inside him. "You should be kept like this all the time, ready to fuck, ready to please," Martin kept speaking, quiet and spaced out enough to hear Gerry's mewls of pleasure. "So good. So worth it."

Gerry felt the tears start welling up, screwing his eyes shut and biting down on his arm as he moaned. Martin's fingers were thick and skilled within him, easily locating his prostate and rubbing gently.

"Stop, fuck, please," Gerry cried out, practically vibrating under Martin's hands as precum leaked from his dick to streak the wood and carpet beneath him. "Gonna cum."

Martin immediately stilled the fingers inside him, rubbing up and down Gerry's spine to distract him. "Good boy," he said, leaning down to kiss the knob at the top of Gerry's spine. "Thank you for telling me."

Gerry shivered as his pleasure mellowed out, coming back from the edge and sighing. He was relaxed for only a moment before a third finger pressed at his rim, gently working its way inside along the others.

He let go of his hands to clutch the edge of the desk by his head, knuckles white. He lost his concentration for a moment, letting his hips thrust back on Martin's fingers when he scissored them wide, sending that hot, bubbling good feeling through his entire body.

"Gerry," Martin warned, holding his fingers still as the other man whined pathetically.

"Sorry. Fuck," Gerry ground his forehead against the desk. "Feels so good." He turned his head back to the side, smiling blissfully as Martin began to curl his fingers between thrusts. "Never felt this good."

Martin thrust a little too hard into Gerry's prostate at that, Gerry's eyes going wide as it punched the air and even more precum out of him. "I swear to God, you're going to be the death of me," Martin muttered, closing his eyes and trying to get control of his own body.

Gerry chuckled, pillowing his head with his crossed arms as he looked back at Martin. "I think that's your Archivist's job," he teased. "I'm just a warm up." He punctuated the words by bearing down on Martin's fingers.

Martin hissed and gave him another smack on the ass with his free hand, this time harder than before, and pulled out his fingers as soon as he could. "Careful," he growled, flipping the other man onto his back once more. “I wasn’t joking about leaving you like this."

Martin kept a hand on Gerry's thigh as he opened his belt and pants one handed, something that filled Gerry with a softer heat alongside the arousal that came with the sight of Martin's tented boxers.

"Oh, Mr. Blackwood," Gerry swooned affectedly as he threw an arm across his forehead, not wanting to block his view. "Whatever shall I do-" his voice pitched at the end, fading out into a whine and groan as Martin finally freed himself.

He was about as long as Gerry, but thicker and with a more prevalent vein that Gerry's mouth watered at the though of getting his tongue on it. The head was bright cherry red and shining with precum where it had poked out from the foreskin, and the whole thing was heavy enough that it struggled to stand up even while fully erect.

"If you don't get that inside me right now, I'm going to pounce on you and ride you into the carpet," Gerry stated plainly, his own dick twitching on his belly and painting his happy trail with pre.

Martin's eyes widened a bit, his hand clenching Gerry's thigh, before he laughed. "No need for that," he replied, reaching out for another pump of lube with the hand that had been inside Gerry. "You wouldn't want to ruin all of your good work up til now, not when you're about to get your reward."

The words hit Gerry with a warm wave of pleasure and embarrassment as he watched Martin slick up his own cock. The other man kept his strokes slow as he bit his lower lip and closed his eyes for just a moment. 'Beautiful,' Gerry thought. The sight of Martin like this would make Michelangelo weep.

"Dunno, could be just as satisfying," he teased, toeing Martin's pants down his thighs to puddle on the floor. "Think you should be doing the work for this round though, since I've been so good."

Martin let out another huff of laughter, shaking his head as he let himself go for a moment. "Excuse you, I've already been doing most of the work," he replied, getting another pump of lube to stroke Gerry with this time. He smirked as Gerry visibly had to fight thrusting up into his firm hold. "But, you've been good, so the effort has been worth it."

The praise and his touch were overwhelming, so much so that Gerry had to close his eyes and think of Leitner to pull himself back from cumming. "Martin, please," he moaned.

Martin let go of his cock after one more upstroke, squeezing just a bit more over the head when he reached it. "Alright, no more teasing." He gripped himself in his slick hand while he guided Gerry to part his legs wider with the other. It was when he was lifting Gerry's balls with his thumb to get a better look at his hole that he found it.

Gerry gasped as Martin played with his guiche, a wicked smile on the other's face. "So full of surprises," he remarked with an appreciative tone. He guided his cock to Gerry's hole, putting more and more pressure against it until he was slipping inside. "Shit," he moaned, fighting the urge to thrust in too fast, "Almost expected another tattoo here." He indicated where exactly that was by lightly rubbing his thumb over the barbell..

Gerry pulled his hair in his fists, fighting to keep his hips still and muscles relaxed as Martin worked his way inside. "Wasn't born with a winking eye down there, no need to give myself one," he replied, his voice strung high. "Mm, fuck, thought about getting more piercings though, before I kicked it."

Martin let out a confused moan as Gerry's core tightened around him, halting about halfway inside. "Where?" Martin asked, his slick hand coming up to play with one of Gerry's nipples.

Gerry arched up into the touch on his chest, an action that hadn't been forbidden. "More along my taint maybe, or maybe a Prince Albert," he breathed heavily, but measured. "There's a lot of them I was considering, and that was just for my-" he broke off with a sharp inhale as Martin pushed deeper. "Fuck."

Gerry's eyes bulged as he tried to keep calm. There was so much of him and Martin wasn't even fully seated inside yet. He swore if he brought a hand down to run over his stomach, he might feel Martin's dick poking him from the inside.

"Easy, easy," Martin's hands came up to pin Gerry's again, more to keep his balance while kissing him than anything else. He kissed Gerry until they were both gasping, and he ground up into the other man until his hips were flush to Gerry's pelvis.

Gerry moaned, shifting his hands under Martin's until he could hold them just as tight. After a moment to adjust, he gave Martin another kiss. "I can still pin you to that chair if you don't start moving," Gerry teased, their lips still touching.

Martin groaned, resting his forehead against Gerry’s and keeping his lips out of reach. “Stop being a brat,” he nearly growled, giving Gerry a harsh thrust that managed to hit his prostate, hard. “You aren’t the only one who needs to adjust. Do you have any idea how tight you are?”

Gerry’s head thumped against the desk, his back arching as much as it could while he kept his hips still. “Yes,” he hissed, clenching his muscles hard enough for Martin to see stars. “I’ve been dead for years and your dick is a fucking anal destroyer.”

Martin thrust again, his face red as he began to set a slow, brutal pace. “Can you not?” he let go of Gerry’s hands to grip his hips instead. He straightened as he lifted Gerry’s hips, the position giving him more leverage.

Gerry’s hands returned to his own hair, tugging and pulling on it as he writhed. “Can I not what?” He asked, smirking. “This?” he clenched hard on a thrust, “or talking about how big your dick is?”

Martin’s entire body jolted with the electro-shock of pleasure that shot through him. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself as he continued to thrust. “Both? Jesus, Gerry.” He bit his lip. Even when he closed his eyes, the sounds they were making were positively filthy enough to paint a vivid picture behind his eyelids. 

The sounds of slick slapping and squelching of Martin’s thrusts made were positively obscene.

“If you wanted to make my ass sloppy,” Gerry tried to tease haughtily, though the words ended up coming out as a whine, “you could just cum inside me already.” His hole now fluttered around Martin without prompting; Gerry was getting close.

“I’ve had just about enough of you,” Martin squeezed Gerry’s dick with his lube-slick hand, slowly working up to making his strokes match the pace of his thrusts. It certainly worked at robbing Gerry of his ability to speak, though his noises pitched louder.

“Can I,” Gerry gasped, feeling his orgasm build like an incoming freight train. “Fuck, Martin, I’m so close. Can I play with my nipples, please?”

Another shiver wracked Martin. “Yeah, course. Since you asked nicely,” Martin replied breathily, forgetting the tone for just a moment. It didn’t seem to matter to Gerry, who immediately pinched both nipples around his piercings and screamed.

Fire coursed through Gerry, and he surrendered to the wave of white-out pleasure, orgasm crashing over him as Martin continued to stroke him through it, hips slowing only slightly. Though he had cum less than an hour before, thick ropes of spend shot out to cover his abdomen and chest, a few drops making it as far as the hollow of his throat. Martin slowed to a stop as Gerry opened his eyes and ran a finger through the mess, drawing playful lines with it before lifting some to his lips.

“Jesus,” Martin cursed, hips giving an involuntary thrust as he watched. The action caused a bit more cum to leak out of Gerry’s softening dick, causing them both to moan.

“Never seen a guy eat his own spunk before?” Gerry teased, sucking his finger clean. “Or, have you never eaten your own-”

“Shut up,” Martin hissed again, giving Gerry’s dick another squeeze. Gerry seized from the overstimulation, causing a feedback loop of pleasure that had Martin doubled over him.

“Next time, maybe,” Gerry breathed, his arms wrapping around Martin’s neck. “You can keep going, you know,” he whispered in the other man’s ear. “Can feel you haven’t cum yet, and I want it.”

Martin shivered, his hips twitching, and lowered his face to Gerry’s neck, biting harshly, but not enough to draw blood. Gerry moaned.

“Know you’ve wanted to shut me up, don’t want to listen to how amazing you are with that dick of yours,” Gerry purred. Both of Martin’s hands returned to his hips, gripping hard enough to bruise. When Martin straightened, Gerry followed, nipping at his neck.

"He wants this, you know," Gerry purred, nails scratching over Martin's still clothed back. He keened when it earned him a savage thrust, the overstimulation buzzing like static through his entire body.

"Shut," Martin panted between thrusts, his face red and dripping sweat. "Up."

Gerry smirked against Martin's skin, moving to nipple at his jawline. "I didn't even have to Know it." he retaliated for the thrust by bearing down on Martin as hard as he could, this time earning a cut off whimper. "I cleaned off his desk already. You could follow me back down there and bend him over it."

"Gerry, stop it," Martin growled, his thrusts becoming jerky and less controlled.

Gerry slipped his fingers in Martin's hair instead. "He'd be ready for it. I didn't touch him, but I may have gotten out of hand and gave him a show."

Martin gripped his shoulders and pushed Gerry back down on the desk, but he didn't pull out. "What is wrong with you?" He cried out angrily, nails digging into Gerry's skin.

Gerry laughed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, causing Martin to curse and thrust harder. "Everything," he replied, reaching up to tug at his own nipples, twisting them idly for the little sparks of pleasure that shot through him. "Now give it to me like you want to give it to Sims."

Rage and hot arousal flooded Martin. Still keeping Gerry pinned with one hand, he reached between them to find that tiny silver barbell tucked between Gerry's balls and hole and tugged.

Gerry screamed, eyes rolling back in his head as his spent dick gave a valiant twitch. His back arched off the table under Martin's grip, and his muscles clenched harder than ever before.

Martin felt all of it, joining in with a yell as he came. He continued thrusting into Gerry as he did, driving his seed as deep as it could go like a man possessed. A few tears made it past his screwed shut eyes, the line between pain and pleasure thrumming enough to tug some buried emotion free.

When he came back to himself, it was to Gerry murmuring something soft while holding both his hands, legs crossed around his lower back as he kept Martin buried and still inside him.

When he saw clarity return to Martin's eyes, Gerry immediately slackened, his legs falling from Martin's waist and grip on Martin's hands loosening. "Hey," he smiled. "Welcome back."

Martin slumped over him, tears dripping onto Gerry's cheeks. "You're such an asshole."

"Yeah," Gerry agreed, giving Martin's dick one last gentle squeeze. The other man cursed and pulled out abruptly, cum and lube spilling out of Gerry's hole and splattering over the front of the desk.

"Fuck," Gerry moaned, arching slightly. "Sorry about your desk, mate. I can help clean up later?" he laughed breathily. "Much later. God, you wrecked me good."

Martin, still incredibly red, reached out for the tissue box he'd left on the floor next to them. A few in hand, he started cleaning them both up as gently as he could. "It's fine. Technically it's Elias's. Well Peter's now."

Gerry looked at Martin, mouth agape. Martin paused, holding a spend covered tissue. "What?"

"Did you really?" A hysterical giggle escaped Gerry. "Fuck me on Elias Bouchard's desk?"

"It's not his anymore," Martin tried to huff and hide his grin, going back to wiping them both up. "Hopefully it won't be again, at least for awhile-."

Gerry continued to giggle, his own tears welling up. "Oh my God, this is perfect."

Martin rolled his eyes and pelted Gerry in the chest with some crumpled, but clean, tissues. "Finish cleaning yourself," Martin retorted, looking pointedly at the cum starting to dry in the hair on Gerry's abdomen. The dirty tissues went in the wire bin next to the desk. He made a mental note to take the trash out before facilities came through tonight.

"Yes, Mum," Gerry rolled his eyes as his giggles finally slowed, immediately doing what he was told. 

When he looked up again, he flinched at the expression on Martin's face. "Sorry, didn't mean to-" Gerry slowly pushed himself up so he was sitting again, keeping a tissue pressed to his hole so he didn't make even more of a mess.

"It's alright," Martin reflexively replied, tugging up his underwear and slacks. "You didn't-"

"Yeah, but I did suspect something, so." Gerry stretched before tossing the last of the tissues. "Honestly, my Mum was shit too. It's how I ended up with Gertrude. She was able to exorcise her after that mess with the book, and I stuck around to help."

Martin paused in buttoning his shirt. "Exorcised?" He asked, confused.

"Oh yeah, all that-" he shuddered, "Why I got accused for it?" He padded around the desk to get his clothes. "She was trying to gain immortality by making her own pages for the Book of the Unquiet Dead. It worked enough that she was able to stick around to torment me until Gertrude came along."

Martin shivered. "Christ, that's awful. I'm sorry you had to-”

Gerry waved him off. "It's fine. She's gone, Gertrude's gone, and now it's my time to haunt the place." Once his pants were on, he leaned down to pick up his page.

He dropped it again almost instantly. "What the fuck?"

Martin came around the desk, concerned. "Is everything alright?" He asked, one hand already reaching out to check for injury.

Gerry pointed at the page. "Does that feel warm to you?" He asked.

Martin crouched down next to them, their eyes level, and reached down to pick up the page himself.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed, almost toppling backwards. Gerry's hand shot out to keep him steady. "Warm and," Martin shuddered. "Fleshy."

"That can't be good," Gerry remarked, stomach churning. He pulled one of his discarded stocks on his hand before trying to pick up his page again. Instead of being perfectly rigid, it hung limp in his hand. "I think it might be time to visit the Archivist again."

Martin sighed, cheeks flush. "Yeah. I'll, uh, come with." He straightened and offered Gerry a hand up.

Gerry took it. "Thanks." He gingerly placed the now fleshy page on the desk for the moment. Then he paused. "You already did."

Martin stopped on his last button. "I what?"

Gerry snickered. "Came with me."

This time Martin threw the entire box of tissues at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light BDSM- Gerry jokes about being good for the right people, Martin goes with it. There's references to punishments, overall soft/mild Dom!Martin after that, Martin giving Gerry a single smack to the ass without asking first, lots of calling Gerry a good boy  
> Tattoos- specifically Gerry's eye tattoos  
> No condom/unsafe sex/creampie  
> Gerry has a moment of self consciousness about his body, particularly his burn scars, zoning out a bit before Martin pulls him out of it  
> Mention of Gerry's mom and her suicide (not in detail), implication of Gertrude finishing Mary off, minor mention of Martin's mom  
> Gerry's nipple and Guiche piercings, as well as discussion about getting more  
> Casual references to the fact that Gerry is technically dead/should be fully dead  
> Cumplay/eating cum  
> Gerry working Martin up by talking about Jon/telling him that Jon wants him  
> Minor painplay from rough sex/piercings  
> Sex on Elias's desk/mentions of Elias and Peter  
> Mild body horror- All of the beholding has made Gerry's page a bit more fleshy, so they now have a bit of warm human skin to deal with.
> 
> (Let me know if I missed something)

**Author's Note:**

> CW  
> Non-Sexual/non-explicit Nudity: Gerry has to clean himself up after the events in Part 1  
> Suicide/Assisted Suicide- Gerry explains the situation regarding his page (to Tim and Martin seperately), Tim implies Gerry isn't the only one Jon hasn't "allowed to die"  
> Mary Keay- mention of her as a shitty mother, her death non-explicitly referred to as being a suicide and not murder
> 
> I think that's everything but please tell me if I missed something/should change any tags.


End file.
